


Balance

by maely1234



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, and a few other changes thrown in there too, my relatively short take on tdp, rayla loses her hand au, rewrite time boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maely1234/pseuds/maely1234
Summary: Zym wasn't strong enough to break the binding. Rayla loses her hand, Callum can't get over his loss of magic, and Ezran is terrified of the uncertainty that lies ahead of them where Zym's concerned. A rewrite of tdp beginning at the end of season 1.





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I wrote for the tdp big bang and it was a lot of fun!! I have a lot of thoughts about what tdp could have been if it were written better and with more consistency, and it's great to play around with the possibilities. idk if i'll ever write for it again though alsdkfj

Electricity crunches in the air, sparking and crackling around the glimmering, newly hatched dragonet. Rayla can feel the magic saturating the air, almost enough to overwhelm her, if not for the throbbing pain in her hand and the surge of relief coursing through her. She keeps her distance though, letting Callum and Ezran fawn over the hatchling. 

The dragonet shines with life, leaping wholeheartedly towards Bait with the intent of tackling the poor lizard, only to trip on his feet and tumble straight into Ezran’s awaiting arms. The two share a glance that shouldn’t communicate as much as it did- and that reminds her, she needs to talk to Callum about the whole ‘Ezran can communicate with animals on some level but neither of us ever thought to tell you’ thing. A glance down at her hand quickly quiets any more thoughts of the sort; a secret for a secret she supposes, it’s only fair- it isn’t though, and she knows this. She knows from the hopeful lilt in their voices whenever King Harrow comes up. A measly thing like this will mean nothing in the face of a dead king- a dead father. 

“You already know your name- Azymondias.” Ezran gives a hushed declaration, eyes alight. The dragonet- Azymondias, chirps, looking around with unabashed curiosity. 

“Okay so that’s Callum, he’s my brother. That’s Ellis and her wolf, Ava, they helped us get up here. That’s Lujanne, we thought she could heal you- but hey everything worked out in the end.” Ezran points to each person as he goes around. “And that’s Rayla, you’ll like her a lot.” 

The newly named Azymondias twists his neck to get a look at her, and an uncanny understanding flashes through his eyes. Rayla looks down, edging her faintly black hand behind her. But Azymondias is not to be deterred. He wiggles out of Ezran’s grip and makes a beeline towards her, head high with purpose even as his wobbly footsteps nearly send him careening forwards. Rayla can’t help but smile, only minutes out of the egg and he was already prancing around, a far cry from the dull and lifeless egg he had been minutes ago. 

She squats down to the ground and slowly, reverently, holds out her good hand for him to investigate. He sniffs it once before rubbing into it, leaving her to scratch the back of his head. Turned, his nose lingers by her dying hand, and he sniffs at it too, with a concerned air. 

“Don’t worry about it, little one. It’s worth it.”

Gently, Azymondias leans forward to grasp the binding in his needle-like teeth. Time creeps to a halt as he bites down, the world pausing to hold its breath with Rayla as she hopes- prays for what seemed impossible. 

That shared breath is released as a resigned sigh when Azymondias pulls away, the binding still secure. He croons, looking up at her with a surprising amount of remorse in his crystal gaze; he’s far too young to have that much sadness. 

Rayla sniffles, scratching him once more. “It’s alright, you did your best. Thank you for trying.” 

Ezran walks over, petting down Azymondias’ back, over the soft spines. Rayla looks up to see him watching her, only to have him glance down when their eyes meet. “We could call him Zym for short,” he says softly. 

“Yeah.”

Rayla stands up after a bit, once Ellis comes over to join in the petting. Both Callum and Lujanne have come closer as well, and Callum’s shoulders are bent inwards as he asks, “Are you going to have to-” 

Rayla nods, holding onto her limp arm with pale knuckles. “Before it gets to far.”

“I’ll help. You’ll need someone with a bit more...experience, so to say.” Lujanne puts a hand on her shoulder. Rayla jerks away. Contact was rare among Moonshadow Elves that weren’t related or courting, only to be given as a sign of support and comfort when things were lowest. She didn’t need pity from an elf like Lujanne. She didn’t need it from anyone.

She purposely doesn’t think of the stares she’ll get when she one day returns home. It was known that she went on a mission, one that included a binding. It will be no mystery what happened. The whispers, the jeers, the constant reminder that she had failed on what was arguably the most important mission the Moonshadow Elves had ever been on. And then she would have to tell them how she was the distraction that pulled Runaan’s focus away, stalling the team. An error, a child’s mistake, even knowing that it was the egg she was drawing his attention to. Any other assassin would have taken the egg and killed Ezran, a total victory. But not her. Not when she realized she wouldn’t have to kill. 

“Thank you,” Rayla mutters, hating how her voice shakes. Her pride claws at her, keeping her mouth shut and teeth clenched tight. She takes a deep breath, shoving down the reality of her situation so it can overwhelm her another time- preferably when she was alone.

“I can take you to my home, all of you- besides you Ellis, I think your parents are expecting you back.” Lujanne suggests. Ellis droops, but Rayla can’t pay the girl much mind besides for waving goodbye.

When Lujanne begins to show them the way, Rayla stays a step behind her, determined to only let the rest of the group see her back. She shuts out the concern- the  _ pity _ she knows Ezran and Callum are feeling, that even Zym looks like he’s feeling. 

Around them, the sky starts to glow, a rain of what might have been thousands of fireflies drenching them. Callum holds out a hand, jaw slack as the blue bits of light float right through his awaiting palm. Ezran giggles, racing ahead with glee, Zym bundled up in his arms. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Callum is at her side now. She should have been aware he was moving closer before now- she would have, if the noose around her arm wasn’t there. 

Rayla looks around, the gentle glow, the atmosphere suffused with magic, all of it should be warming her, wrapping around her in a cocoon of pleasantness. Instead, she hums in a vague sort of agreement as her chest becomes heavier, her skin veined with dreadful ice. 

She’s made her choice. No matter how horrible of an elf it made her. She doesn’t regret it either, and she doesn’t think she ever will. 

* * *

The early morning air is uncomfortably quiet. Callum sits up in the bed Lujanne provided him and Ezran, absently stroking Bait. He’s given up on sleeping; whatever glimpses of it he gets are fitful and troubled. His gaze wanders from Ezran over to the curtains that separate Rayla from them. Lujanne hadn’t let any of them watch, but that doesn’t mean much in the face of a powerful imagination. Callum had sent Ezran on a food hunt for Zym to try and distract from the horror in his brother’s eyes. 

Callum had just sat outside the room Lujanne and Rayla went into, keeping guard as best he could as a person with shellshock. 

He had been so sure that Zym was lost forever, that breaking the primal stone had been for nothing. Then Zym had arrived, nothing and everything like Callum had thought the Prince of Dragons would be. 

Now, the dragon is curled up against Ezran’s side, babbling quietly in his sleep. He hardly looks like the strongest creature in the world, but he hatched only hours ago, he doesn’t have to be anything yet. 

Bait rolls away, growling at Callum, and it’s only then that he realizes the way his hand had been slowly tightening its grip, pinching the poor lizard. 

“Sorry,” he mutters absentmindedly. He moves his hand back into his lap. It’s only a few moments before he’s fiddling with his thumbs. A shrill hoot from outside makes him jump, nearly starting off the bed. 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay- okay- you need to chill out.” Another breath as he settles back down, trying to clear his head. There’s an itch under his skin though, and it isn’t long before he’s picking at his sleeve. 

He tears the blankets away from him, slipping out of the bed so he can pace in front of it. He knows this is about the broken primal stone. There’s an emptiness he can’t fill, a craving with no satisfaction to be found. He wants to say aspiro and feel that rush of power from the tips of his fingers up to his head. There is no primal stone anymore, no magic. 

Wait- Lujanne, she’s a mage, right? She can help him learn how to use magic without a stone. So what, there hasn’t been a human mage? That doesn’t mean it’s impossible, only that no one has succeeded. 

Mind decided, Callum makes sure to steady his pace as he walks out. He can’t seem too desperate. Now, to find out where Lujanne is, or if she’s even awake. 

“Out for a walk?” Lujanne sounds from behind him, and Callum nearly trips over himself. She chuckles softly at his antics. 

He grabs the inside of his cheek with his teeth as he gathered his voice. “I wanted to see you actually.” 

“Really?” Her hands clamp behind her back, a knowing sort of glimmer grimace marring her face. “Rayla is still sleeping I hope. Poor girl.” 

“Yeah.” Callum sighs, wondering if he should even bring this up. But he was already out here, wasn’t he? If he goes back, he only has the constant clawing of his yearning body to look forward to. “I was...could you teach me how to use magic?” 

Lujanne stares at him. A disdainful scoff gives Callum all the answer he needs. He slinks back to their room, the stone cold anger radiating from every crevice, every line in Lujanne’s face haunting him. 

* * *

Rayla awakens to a stabbing pain from her hand. Sighing, she raises up the rotting limb-

Oh. Right. 

Her arm is wrapped up to the elbow, dried blood peaking through the ones wrapped around the stump, just before where her wrist should have been. She stares, her body confused as to why there weren’t any fingers to flex, no matter how hard it tried. Pain flares, like a match is being held up to it. Instinctively, Rayla’s surviving hand goes to steady it, maybe even try to smother the imaginary spark, but the movement only sends a wave of agony rolling upwards. Unbidden, a cry escapes her, and she bites her tongue to stop any other unnecessary sounds from making their way out. Her eyes screw shut as she sucks in air. It is released slower, with purpose, and the next breath in follows a similar pattern. She calms her thoughts, letting the sharp pain fade into a more distant throbbing. 

When she opens her eyes, sulfur tangs her tongue, but the bleeding stops fast enough. She decides to examine the room around her, a far easier process. The designs are ancient, filled with intricate carvings; she vaguely remembers seeing them in some of the books Runaan had made her read so that as he put it, “learn to appreciate the history of our people.”

She hopes he’s doing okay, that he made it out of the capital after killing King Harrow. A selfish part of her wishes him and the others would have caught up to them at some point, even if it put Ezran in danger. Don’t get her wrong, she’s come to appreciate and care for the two brothers, but at first it was hard to ignore the worry and loneliness. Humans, while not at all like she had imagined, were incredibly...well, there had been more than a few eye rolls and tired grunts, and even more expectant looks over her shoulder, to see someone who would understand her disbelief at whatever it was that Callum was proclaiming now. 

“Rayla?” Ezran’s quiet entrance is accompanied by the worried chirps of Zym, and the low shuffling of Bait’s considerably shorter legs. “Are you doing okay?” 

“I’m fine.” She meant it. All that was gone was her hand- she could have lost an arm for stars’ sake. No matter how she was ever going to fight with only one blade wielding hand. Even if her hand had hurt before, it was still there, still capable of being used up until the end. Scouting, hunting, foraging- well, that one was still possible at least. 

“Are you sure?” Ezran scoots closer, keeping his eyes on her face or glancing towards Zym, pointedly not looking at the bandaged limb. 

Rayla scowls. “I’m fine.” 

She throws the blanket off her, standing up in one big rush as she’s used to. The world spins, and she teeters dangerously far left before throwing her body weight in the other direction. Zym curls around her legs, as if to try and steady them. Ezran reaches out, but Rayla waves him away. “See?” 

Ezran frowns, a small and vulnerable and undeniably hurt thing that makes her stomach twist and her eyes narrow. He picks up Bait, wrapping the lizard tight to his chest. Bait slowly blinks at her, grumbling. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Lujanne says as she pulls back the curtain. There’s a tray of water balanced carefully in her other hand. “I wasn’t expecting you up so soon.” 

Rayla shrugs. “Well I am.” 

Lujanne sets down the tray of water on the floor before turning to Ezran. “Maybe you should leave, this isn’t anything for children to see.” 

Ezran bites his lip, his stubbornness shining through, then looks at Zym and seems to think otherwise. Still, he sets Bait down on her bed. “Bait always helps me when I’m feeling bad, he can help you feel better too.” 

Bait shuffles around, looking none too happy. Ezran stills him with a glare. “Be nice Bait.” 

Beckoning Zym with him, the dragon pausing to give Rayla one last croon, Ezran leaves, worry trailing him like a shadow. 

“You really should sit down, it’ll make this easier.” Lujanne comments, fishing out various medical supplies from her tunic. 

“What easier?” 

“Rewrapping it so it doesn’t get infected. I can’t magic you up a new hand unfortunately.”

“I know that much.” Rayla glowers at the mage. And it’s only when Lujanne coughs into her hand in a clear sign of discomfort that Rayla sits. Bait looks up at her, blinking once before carefully making his way onto her lap. Her first instinct is to shove him off, but for one neither Bait nor Ezran would ever truly forgive her, and for two the weight is surprisingly grounding. 

Wordlessly, she holds out her arm to Lujanne, who kneels down to work without any babbling. 

Rayla refuses to let herself look away when the final wrapping is removed, even as she swallows down whatever wanted to leave her stomach. Her skin is sewn shut, dried clumps of blood still sticking to her skin. For a moment, she thinks she might just be dreaming. That this is all a nightmare and when she wakes up she’ll find her hand still attached because Zym managed to free it. 

That childish fantasy is chased away as Lujanne gently dabs a soaked cloth around the area, cleaning the blood. Rayla bites the inside of her cheek, her tongue too sore to go for round two. It doesn’t look like her arm, even if it is attached to her. 

Lujanne works methodically, with quick, practiced movements, which Rayla appreciates. She’d rather not have this be dragged out. 

“Can you hold this in place?” Lujanne asks, breaking the lull of silence. Rayla puts her hand on the gauze pad in question, hissing when she presses too hard. “Careful there.” 

The new wrapping feels wrong. It’s too pristine, unnatural almost. Rayla swallows. “Thank you for- for helping me with this.” 

“Of course. I know how serious an unfulfilled binding is. You’re lucky it was just your hand. Imagine what a hassle it would have been.” 

Rayla blinks. For a while there, she'd forgotten the fact that Lujanne was a moonshadow elf...in any capacity really. Obviously, Lujanne looked like a moonshadow elf, but that was about where the similarities end. Everything about her is just...odd. And here Rayla had gone thinking she was the only strong deviant from moonshadow elves.

“I’m not exactly like the other elves, am I?” Lujanne chuckles. 

“No. You’re not.” Rayla says, ignoring the uncannily accurate voicing of her thoughts, and instead tries to imagine Runaan openly laughing like that- something she hasn’t thought of since she was a kid. The image is unsettling enough for her to shudder. Her next words are chosen carefully. “It’s weird.” 

Lujanne shrugs, another loose, emphatic motion she couldn’t see Runaan doing in a millenia. “Once you spend a few decades on your own with only a shadow phoenix and your own illusions for company, you start to forget what normal is.”

Rayla hums. She doesn’t know what to say that isn’t just her insulting Lujanne’s attitude by comparing it to other moonshadow elves, so she doesn’t speak.

“Hungry?’ Lujanne offers. “We have lovely worms this time of year.” 

Blanching, Rayla shakes her head. Again, Lujanne laughs. 

“Don’t worry, they don’t taste or look like worms. You’ll just be eating some nice elken pie with speckleberries. You do need to eat though, I’ll get you some food and water. If you need anything, I won’t be far.” 

“Won’t you be tired?”    
  


“I’m used to being up during the day now. Phoe-Phoe keeps an eye on the place at night and I do so during the day so that no one slips past.”

“Weird,” Rayla mumbles, her free hand coming to rest on Bait’s back. She’d rather be up and about, not chained to a bed. But the throbbing is back, accompanied by the tug of exhaustion, and she isn’t strong enough to shake it off. The bed will have to do. 

“And Rayla,” Lujanne pauses, turning back to look her in the eyes. “I know how they are back home about this too. You made the choice you thought was best, you’re not wrong for that.” 

* * *

“So....what do you want to do?” Ezran asks Zym. He can’t get the sight of Rayla’s missing hand out of his mind. It’s not proven, he never got the courage to ask her to confirm it, but the looks she always, always gave him when talking about her hand were enough evidence for him. 

An agitated sort of feeling pushes itself into his thoughts, and he gets the distinct feeling he’s being told off somehow. Zym sits down in front of Ezran, wings flared out in obvious anger. 

Ezran kneels down, stroking Zym’s head fluff. “You’re upset with me?” 

Zym shakes his head, scratching the dirt as he growls. What Ezran feels this time is the distinct feeling of being upset- not at him, but because he’s feeling bad about himself and he shouldn’t be. 

“You could feel that?” Ezran asks, breathless. 

Zym puffs out his chest, a gesture of affirmation and self-satisfaction Ezran could feel as if it were his own. 

Ezran sits down, hands on either side to steady him. “Wow- I knew you were different from the other animals but…” 

Zym tilts his head, waddling forward to rub his cheek against Ezran’s knee before clambering on his legs to curl up. Ezran sees himself asking Bait to stay with Rayla, can smell the anger and uncertainty rolling off Rayla. 

_ “Help?”  _

The voice speaking directly in his thoughts breaks the vision. Ezran gasps for air, head pounding. He clutches it, trying to get the pain to just stop. 

_ “Zym help?”  _

The voice cuts into him, like a thorn except it was inside his head. Ezran whimpers, “Zym stop...it hurts.” 

Zym croons in what sounds like an apology, but thankfully doesn’t try and communicate that through his thoughts. After a long, agonizing moment, the pain dulls enough for Ezran to open his eyes. He sighs in relief, petting Zym absentmindedly. 

“Please, don’t do that again for a while. I don’t think my brain can take it.” Zym looks down, wings drooping, and Ezran rushes to comfort him. “I know you didn’t mean it- it was just too much. Maybe later we can try something a lot slower. It was alright when you were just sending me emotions.” 

Zym rumbles in assent, licking Ezran’s cheek. Ezran can’t help but giggle, playfully pushing the young dragonet away with a cry of, “C’mon Zym.” But the dragonet is persistent, and soon enough Ezran is lying on the ground Zym standing on his chest triumphantly. 

“You win this time, but I’ll get you one day,” Ezran promises solemnly. Zym is kind enough to look just a bit worried, before getting distracted by a butterfly fluttering past them. Their game is abandoned instantly for a new one consisting of stalking the unaware insect. Zym swats at it, but it floats just out of his reach. Next trick in the basket is a leap, but it’s overshot, and when he tries to right himself with his wings he only serves to remind Ezran of a frantic chicken. It ends similarly, with Zym crashing to the ground. 

Carefully, and while checking for any injuries, Ezran picks Zym up, holding him at eye level. “I guess you don’t come out knowing how to fly then.” 

Zym tilts his head, chirping. Ezran smiles. 

“Maybe we can teach you? But how do you teach a dragon to fly…” Ezran sticks out his lower lip, pondering. If he really thinks about it, they’ll have to teach Zym how to fly, how to talk, how to be a dragon. His stomach seems to drop out from under him. They’re the only ones who can raise Zym, and where Ezran had once seen only fun, dread seeps through. There’s so much they can get wrong. Who’s going to teach him to talk like a dragon should. None of them know how dragons are supposed to act, if they have any manners, or how they use magic. They don’t know anything. 

Ezran sets Zym down, feeling very small and unprepared. His hands are shaking a bit and he doesn’t move to stop them. 

Tentatively, there is an inkling of concern pushing into his mind. He shuts it out, pain flaring to life behind his eyes. Zym weaves around Ezran’s legs, blubbering in distress. 

Ezran takes a deep breath. He has to be strong for Zym. Sitting down once more, his first job is to reassure Zym. “It’s okay, I’m okay see? You didn’t mean it, I know you didn’t.” 

Zym isn’t satisfied until he’s sniffed every part of Ezran, and licked a third of it. Even when his inspection is complete he still looks unhappy. 

Ezran tries to think of what Dad would do in this situation. Probably try to make him laugh or distract him. He could do that. 

“Why don’t I teach you some new words?” Ezran offers, and that snatches Zym’s attention immediately, eyes sparking. Every dragon needed to know what things were, so he had to be doing something right. 

Immediately Zym points to the grass with a stubby claw, tilting his head. 

Ezran giggles. “That one’s easy. It’s grass.” 

Zym wriggles with excitement, racing over to a bush and pointed at it. Ezran tells Zym what it is and grins to match Zym’s joy. Maybe he can handle this after all. 

* * *

Callum lingers outside of the curtain, eyeing Rayla’s vague and blurry finger. The inside of his cheek rolling between his teeth, he swallows. He can’t go in there and face her like this, mind half itching to go and hunt down Lujanne again. Worrying about Rayla, planning their next step, that’s what he should be doing. To be fair, he has...somewhat. And by that he means he thought vaguely about where they might go after this before he was reminded of Rayla and the guilt threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t even talk to Ezran without the shame of his craving mind creeping up on him. Most of his time had been spent near a napping Phoe-Phoe. Searching for dirt in her immaculate feathers had been a methodical enough task to distract him. 

But he couldn’t call himself a decent person if he spent the rest of his time avoiding Rayla. He can’t run from this- a fact he’s used to, with his lessons and practices he was bound to fail in some way or the other. There is something different about this guilt though. Then, it had never really mattered. Sure, he wasn’t the prince he was supposed to be. But he wasn’t born into it, wasn’t raised with the intent of ruling a kingdom when he came of age. That was Ezran. Shame had been there, the burning embarrassment when he was knocked down in front of Ezran or King Harrow. That had been shoved down with a deprecating laugh and the reminder that he wasn’t good at this stuff anyways, so it was only natural that he’d fail. This...this time it’s only him. There is nothing to blame, nothing he can write off as an excuse. Only the knowledge of his own weakness and failure. 

Lujanne breezes past him, and the sight of her nearly makes him jump out of his skin. She doesn’t even bother with a glance, but after the glare last night, there was no reason to. It’s perfectly clear what her opinion of him is now. But as she pulls the curtain back, Callum realizes that this is the perfect chance to slip in. Now or spend another half hour deliberating what he should say or do. He makes his body move forward. 

Rayla sits up in bed, Bait curled up at her side. Her fingers tap restlessly on her thigh. For a moment, they drift towards the bandages, but Rayla is quick to snatch them away. He pushes aside the thought that he feels like that too, with a part of him missing and the rest of him itching to get it back; he doesn’t think either of them will appreciate the sentiment. 

Before Rayla can get a word out, Lujanne cuts in. “No, you can not get up yet. Wouldn’t want you tipping over and all.” 

Rayla’s mouth snaps shut with an audible clack that makes Callum wince. She glowers, holding her wrapped arm dutifully outwards. 

“Uh, hey Rayla,” Callum says, uncertain if she even knows he’s here. 

Rayla sighs. “Hello.” 

He spots a nearby chair and pulls it up to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” 

“I want to go out.” Is all she says. But there’s a frown, an inward bend of the eyebrows, the clenching of her fist. 

“She shouldn’t get up until tomorrow.” 

“How do you expect me to just sit here when it’s this close to the full moon?” Rayla mutters back, eyeing the exit sourly. 

“Don’t you sleep during the night?” Callum squints. He clearly remembers her waking up in the morning with them, even if she did sleep longer than Ezran. 

Rayla has to steady herself against the mattress in her giggles. “We’re called Moonshadow Elves for a reason you know.” 

“Yeah but I thought that was related to the whole moon magic thing, not cause you stayed up all night,” Callums says, crossing his arms.

“I mean, we are named after our magic- but think about it, what kind of creature dependent on the moon for magic wouldn’t be nocturnal?” 

Callum makes a show of rolling his eyes. This isn’t the time, he tells himself. But maybe...maybe he could compromise. “So, what’s your home like?” 

Rayla pauses, and Callum realizes it’s the first time either of them has asked a question so direct. Their trip has been spent getting into petty disagreements, tiptoeing around the fact they’re from different worlds at war and know nothing but the horror stories about the other. Ezran was the only one who had asked at first, but after being met by half answers at best, he learned to stop asking. 

“Well, for one it isn’t so crowded.” Rayla seems to light up, staring beyond him at something he can’t envision. “We don’t live in cities. There are villages- a lot of them- and they aren’t flashy. They’re made to be hidden in case of an attack. Every village has at least a squadron of mages to help with magic threats and train any promising mages in the village. Then you have the assassins. Highly trained, specialized focus groups trained for one purpose-” Rayla tapers off, and with a pang, Callum recalls the last time he saw his stepdad. Rayla coughs. “And uh...you know well enough.” 

“Yeah,” Callum huffs, curling his arms tighter around his body. “I know.” 

It isn’t until Lujanne finishes wrapping the hand up again that Callum decides to break through the tense silence between them. “Well, I haven’t seen much of the other kingdoms but Katolis is really cool. The castle is high up, so it looks like you can see the whole kingdom from there. King Harrow said that looking out the window would remind him who he was fighting for.” 

“Really?” Rayla raises an eyebrow and Callum thinks now might be a good time to change subjects.

“Well, I grew up closer to the border, in the mountains. Our ancestors carved out homes in the cliffside and learned how to grow rice and other foods on the mountainside. Now it’s a lot more civilized but a lot of the old stuff is still used cause it held up.” 

“Older is better, as they say,” Lujanne says with a smile, the supplies fully gathered. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t let her get up.” 

Callum nods. “Absolutely.” 

Rayla scoffs. “Like you could stop me.” 

Callum whips his head around, glaring at her with all his might, and with little effect, to his annoyance. “Yes I could.” 

“Oh really? You and what muscle?” 

“I’ll have you know that falling builds plenty of muscles.” Falling and getting back up. What he was best at. Until the primal stone. Until he could use magic. Lujanne’s gaze is heavy though, traces of last night’s fury still lingering in his mind. 

Rayla smiles at him. “Oh I’m sure. But did it teach you how to kill a man in 2 seconds flat? And that’s the slow way.” 

Callum swallows. “...No not really.” 

A moment of silence that’s somehow more tense than the one beforehand gathers before Rayla bursts out into chuckles. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” 

Laughing awkwardly alongside her is the only thing he can think to do, but as it trails off, Rayla’s gaze ends up on her wrapped hand, and the mask slips. 

“Hey, you okay? Really?” 

Rayla takes a sharp breath, shaking her self. “I’m fine.” 

It’s Callum’s turn to raise a disbelieving eyebrow, only to be met with a withering glare. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Alright.” Callum sighs. “What do you want to talk about then?” Please be magic, he asks telepathically. If anything let it be magic. 

“What else do you know about the human kingdoms?” 

Callum barely holds back a sigh, forcing a smile on his face as he nods. “Sure, what do you want to know?” 

* * *

When Rayla opens her eyes, not quite remembering when she had last closed them- sometime near dawn she thinks, long after Callum had left to blearily stumble his way to bed- she still feels like dirt, but better than she did yesterday. Good enough to get up. So she does, although more carefully than she had the first time. This time there’s no dramatic veering, despite her mild disorientation. Her head clears soon enough, and despite the throbbing in her arm still, she’s more than ready to be free from that bed. So, with gritted teeth, she takes her first steps forward. Her body feels off kilter, the inherent wrongness of her new state of existence wearing against her like a file grating its way down to the quick of her horn. The first few go alright, so after she pulls the curtain aside to walk through, she quickens her pace. 

“Rayla- you’re up.” Ezran runs over, jumping down from the bed. Zym and Bait follow, the former half gliding, half falling, and the latter simply climbing down using the ample sheets. “Are you sure you should be up?” 

Rayla sniffs. “One day of rest is plenty.” 

“If you say so- but c’mon, let’s go see Callum.” Gently, Ezran takes her hand, less pulling her and more suggesting a direction to travel in. He makes sure not to pull on the limb, and the kindness makes her smile, even as she seethes about how she doesn’t need to be pampered. Runaan wouldn’t- well, and he probably wouldn’t have let Ezran live either. A life for a life, a crime for a crime. 

Rayla shoos the thoughts away as the two of them step outside. The sudden glare of afternoon light blinds her. She hisses, covering her eyes. Ezran waits until they’ve opened again to keep going. Zym races ahead, squawking and chirping as he frolics; Bait trails behind him after pausing to give Ezran the most annoyed look Rayla had ever seen on any creature- and she’s seen how Runaan looks whenever she suggests something particularly outlandish. 

Callum is sitting next to a sleeping Phoe-phoe, idly petting her feathers. He has the longing, faraway sheen to his eyes she’d caught glimpses of last night. 

“Callum look, Rayla’s up.” Ezran relinquishes her hand so he can shake Callum’s shoulder. Callum’s head nearly flies off his poor neck, and his hand ends up rubbing the offended part as he stands. 

“Are you sure you should be up?” Callums asks, looking over her nervously. Ezran giggles; Rayla only gives him a deadpan look. Clueless, Callum glances between them. “What? What did I say?” 

Behind him, Phoe-phoe raises her head, blinking. She turns her head around and combs through her feathers, pulling out a gummily grinning Zym. She sets him by Ezran’s feet, giving both of them a stern stare. It almost reminds Rayla of a parent telling off another parent. 

“Sorry about that,” Ezran says sheepishly, stopping Zym from charging straight back to the phoenix with a foot. Zym’s attention switches to the shoe, and his tail shoots up in the air as he begins to stalk it. 

  
  


“I keep telling you guys I’m fine,” Rayla says, watching Zym with amusement. “We need to go back to focusing on getting the prince home. We shouldn’t stay here any longer than necessary.” 

“But…” Callum trails off, scuffing the ground with his shoe. 

“But?” Rayla presses. 

“Maybe we should wait for Zym or something?” Zym, having conquered Ezran’s foot and sitting triumphantly on top of it, cocks his head at the mention of his name. Ezran rubs at his head, a hiss of pain accompanying the motion. 

Rayla looks to Callum, wondering if she should ask about it or not. Callum is still focused on the ground though, and doesn’t seem to have noticed. If it happens again she’ll ask. Instead, she asks, “Zym?” 

“Yeah, shouldn’t he be able to defend himself at least? Like with sky magic or something?” 

“I don’t think he can do that for a while,” Ezran says at the same time that Rayla replies with, “He won’t be able to do that for a few years.” The two share a glance, and again Rayla is reminded of Ezran’s ability. She needs to make sure she at least learns the parameters of the skill. 

“Ah.” Is all Callum says, looking disappointed. He did have a point, Rayla admits. Zym was by far the most conspicuous, he needs to know how to handle himself when they go to towns to get supplies- better yet, they need a way to hide him from sight or make him wait in the woods. 

“Yes, dragons don’t gain the ability to harness their magic until they’re 3 years old, which is why dragonets are so heavily guarded until they come of age. Zym here would have had a guard with him at all times- and that’s excluding the Queen’s powerful spells.” Lujanne seemingly appears out of nowhere, as if she’d been there the entire time. Callum seems to shrink under her presence, inching closer to Phoe-phoe. Strange, Rayla thinks. 

“Have you been there the whole time?” Callum clutches his chest, exhaling. 

Lujanne smirks. “Maybe.” 

“Then how’d Zym get taken, if he was so well guarded?” Ezran cuts in, petting Zym’s head. 

Lujanne tips her head towards Rayla. “She knows better than I would. I only hear scraps of news from beyond the border.”

Ezran stares up at her with wide, questioning eyes, and even Callum is curious. Rayla swallows the vitriol that still runs hot in her when talking about King Thunder’s murder. They didn’t know, she reminds herself, they’re good humans. “King Thunder was looking after Zym’s egg, Queen-” Rayla stops herself from saying the Queen’s name. Names gave dark magic power, and she wouldn’t be the one to share the Queen’s. Not even to Callum and Ezran. “The Queen was at a conference with the elven tribes. King Thunder got notice of human crossing at the border and left Zym’s egg to investigate. Nobody really knows what happened after that. No witnesses, and none of the humans in the party that killed him were found alive. Zym’s egg was guarded by two dragons and a small group of elves, all elite soldiers among their kind. Another group of humans armed with dark magic ambushed them, killing all but two- cowards who fled.” Rayla spits out the last part, fist clenched tight. Her bandaged hand spikes with pain, but she grits her teeth and bears it. “You know the rest. We thought Zym’s egg was destroyed but he wasn’t.” 

Rayla leans down, extending a hand for Zym to sniff. He licks it instead, and his downturned expression makes her feel guilty for just saying all that without thinking about how it would affect the dragon in question. Ezran grimaces, and Zym immediately turns back, crooning and rubbing his head around the boy’s legs. Rayla wonders what Zym must have said- or felt- again, she doesn’t know how it works. 

Lujanne clasps her hands together. “Well. That was pleasantly depressing. Lunch anyone?” 

Zym rumbles, and Ezran smiles. “I think he just said yes.” 

* * *

Lunch looks absolutely delicious. Enough to make Ezran’s mouth water if she didn’t know that it was all an illusion. Poking a biscuit suspiciously, he asks “Is this real or fake?”

“It’s as real as you think it is.” Lujanne says with a wink that doesn’t make him feel any more sure. It’s real, he tells himself, it’s exactly what it looks like it is. Just some biscuits and jam and meat that definitely isn’t worms, despite what Lujanne said yesterday. It is surprisingly easy to shove the knowledge down, as with the first few bites the tinge of sliminess fades. 

He looks at Rayla, who sits next to Callum. There’s a grimace on her face as she looks at the food around her, and Ezran wonders why she would look that upset over food- and then he wants to smack himself over the head. Of course it would be hard to eat with one hand. 

“Do you want anything?” Ezran says, offering the tray of biscuits. 

“Sure.” Rayla extends her wrapped arm at first, only to yank it back and reach out with her hand to take a few. Callum gives him a weird look, but then goes through the same realization Ezran had moments before, evident by his expressions alone. 

Rayla can sense the table’s attention is focused on her now, because her chin tilts up as she picks up a container or soup and pours some into the bowl next to her plate. It’s set down with an angry clack. 

“So Ezran.” Rayla says after her first spoonful of soup. “How long have you been able to talk to animals?” 

“Oh…” Ezran licks the last of the jam from his lips. He still feels bad about not telling her, but it had never come up and he’s gone his most his life not telling anyone. Only Callum, and then Dad, and Dad had told him not to tell anyone else so he didn’t. “I can’t really talk to them- it’s more like I can understand what they feel and they can understand me better than they can most people.” He looks over at Zym and Bait, smiling. “I don’t know what Bait is ‘saying’ but I know he recognized his name and is curious. Zym’s the only one I can talk to really.” 

No need to make them worry about the pain quite yet, Zym is good at not pushing too hard and it’s really not that big of a deal. If it gets worse he’ll say something. 

Rayla hums. “So when you said you couldn’t hear anything from that spider-” 

“I couldn’t feel any emotion from it- and every animal has emotions of some sort, even insects. Plants too, but they’re very tiny and I have to listen really hard. Even then I’ve only felt anything from bigger trees.” 

Rayla goes to put her hand on her chin- only it’s with the wrong arm at first, before she stops, looking confused before a glance down makes her sigh. She puts her other hand under her chin, muttering, “That almost sounds like an Earthblood trait.” 

“Ezran’s human though.” Callum points out, Ezran nodding in agreement.

“No elf in me,” he confirms. 

“Fascinating,” Lujanne comments. “I’ve never heard of a human having elven traits.” 

Ezran smiles. He’d always known his gift was unique but he didn’t think it was that special. That’s so cool! He wonders if that’s why Dad had told him not to say anything, he’ll ask him when they meet up again. He hopes Dad isn’t too worried about them. 

“Although, on the subject of magic,” Lujanne says, clasping her hands with a grim frown. “You five need to leave here as soon as you can. Tomorrow even. It took me a while to recognize it, but the dust that fell over us the night of Zym’s hatching was a type of tracking spell. Dark magic was behind it. As much as I would like for you to stay longer and recuperate, we cannot risk Zym being taken.” 

“Viren,” Callum says, face pale. “It’s probably him- or something relating to him.” 

“Viren?” Ezran shakes his head. “I mean, Dad probably sent him looking for us- but Aunt Amaya would have told him what was going on by now, so they won’t try to hurt Rayla.” 

Callum opens his mouth, then closed it again.Him and Rayla share a look that Ezran doesn’t like before Callum speaks again. “I- well- yeah. Maybe. I just don’t know why it would be Viren.”

“But you’re the one who-”

“Anyways, Lujanne we can’t leave like this.” Callum ignores him, looking at the older elf instead. Ezran sinks into his seat, somewhat pouting, somewhat glaring. He knows something is being hidden from him- he hates when people act like he’s just a kid and won’t tell him things. Especially when the person doing so was Callum. “Zym can’t even fly- let alone fend for himself. And Rayla’s hurt.” 

“She’s right though,” Rayla argues. “Getting Zym home is why we’re even travelling together. If he doesn’t get home then every chance at peace is lost.” 

“I know that.” Callum snaps back. “But face it, we’re all essentially useless as we are.” 

Rayla slams her hand against the table. “I can still use a knife. I know more about living off the land than either you two do. Don’t you dare call me useless.” 

“Rayla you’re missing a hand- don’t look at me like that we all know you aren’t okay. It’s just how it is. I can’t use magic and you can’t fight. We’re helpless.” 

Rayla stands, storming off with nothing but a murderous glare in Callum’s direction. 

“Whatever,” Callum huffs. 

“Callum-” Ezran reaches out as Callum stands up. 

“Not now Ezran.” Callum turns, stalking back to Phoe-phoe. 

_ “Sad?”  _ The pain that accompanies the question is one Ezran is familiar enough with to only flinch a bit at its return. Zym is at his feet. Ezran scoots out the chair and pats his lap. To his credit, Zym manages to land accurately on the first attempt, even if it is clumsy and involves claws scrabbling against Ezran’s stomach. 

“It’s okay. Callum and Rayla are mad at each other is all.” Ezran explains. Zym licks his cheek, and he giggles. 

“You two are close, aren’t you?” Lujanne says. 

“Yeah.” Ezran smiles as Zym sends his own affirmation.

“Maybe you should be the one to teach him how to fly then.” 

Ezran swallows. “Me? But I don’t know the first thing about flying. Phoe-phoe would be better than I am. I don’t even have wings, let alone magic and scales and…” 

_ “Scared? Ez- Ezran scared?”  _

“Too much Zym,” Ezran pleads, his mind wrapped around Zym’s emotions like a vice. Zym is the one who has to extract himself so he can sort his thoughts out, his skull already giving a dull throb. 

Lujanne stands, coming beside him to put a hand on his shoulder. “Being responsible for a child is scary, even scarier when its the prince of the dragons. But I know the three of you can do this- it’s not just you who has to raise Zym while you take him home. You’re the closest with him, true, but don’t be afraid to give Callum and Rayla some dragonsitting duties once you’re on the road. And most importantly, a child must be loved, and Zym has plenty who love him and care for him. You’re doing just fine.” 

“Thank you.” Ezran sniffles. “But, do you know anything about dragons?” 

“Not as much as I wish I did. Dragons have been a very standoffish sort for a long time. Little is known about how they function as a society, but I’ll tell you what I know- and I can show you some exercises to help you with Zym’s thoughts.” 

“Really?” 

Lujanne smiles, squeezing his shoulder once before letting go. “Yep. Your mind likely isn’t used to Zym’s communication- since it’s accompanied by his natural magic, but there are steps you can take to get more accustomed to him.” 

“Thank you so much.” Ezran turns back to Zym. “You hear that! We’ll be able to talk better!” 

Zym sits up, batting his wings with happy chirps and a grin of his own. 

“Maybe after we can see about your friends reconciling.” 

“Hopefully…” Callum’s no good when he’s mad. He always gets sour and moody and once he’s mad at something he’ll get mad at random people for no reason. Maybe with some time to calm down it’ll be better. 

* * *

Callum sighs, curling his arms around his knees. He still doesn’t get why Rayla is so mad at him. It’s the truth, and there’s nothing either of them can do about it. He’s been pecked away from Phoe-phoe’s feathers from how rough he was treating them, so now his hands are unoccupied and the itch under his skin runs rampant. 

“Callum.” 

Callum doesn’t bother with being surprised, skipping straight to the dread as he looks up at Lujanne. The elf towers over him, face shadowed as she looks down. 

“What?” He asks, blinking in surprise when she sits beside him. He notices the books in her hand but before he can read their covers she’s speaking and he refocuses his attention.

“Humans and magic have never mixed well. For humans, having something out of their reach was impossible- they had to have it, no matter the cost. Dark magic was born from this. And you are in a similar state, craving magic.” 

Callum sighs. “I know, I know. Give up and move on already.” 

  
  


“No. I want you to learn. You have a kind heart, I can see that much, even if it is clouded at times. If you ever want to even have the smallest chance- and I mean really, really small, about as big a chance as you would have turning a dragon into a vegetarian- at using magic, you will have to learn about the primals.” 

“Primals?” 

Lujanne chuckles. “A lot of learning then. The primals are the natural energies of our world, and all magic is derived from six primal sources. The moon, the sun, the earth, the sky, the ocean, and the stars. Each primal has a specific purpose, a dominion it oversees, and not just physically what they represent, but mentally. Us magical creatures have the advantage of being born with an innate connection to our primals, so the mental aspect isn’t as heavily taught. But true masters embody the very essence of their primals, down to the thought.” 

She sets the books in his lap, he takes the first one, and squints at the title. “‘The Child’s Guide to Primals?’”

“I didn’t know what level of knowledge I would be working with.” Lujanne shrugs. “Don’t worry though, the other ones are easier to understand.” 

Callum gives her a blank stare, and Lujanne slaps him on the back, saying, “I’m only kidding. The ones below it are more advanced, but definitely start with the top one.” 

“I...thank you.” And he is grateful, really, he is. She had given him something to work with at least. Even if didn’t actually seem to be teaching him how to use magic anytime soon it was something. Who knows, maybe he’ll turn out to be naturally inclined. 

“You’re welcome. Although, I should note that the knowledge in those books is for you and you alone. Not to be shared without a thought, understand?” 

Callum nods frantically. “Yep, yep understood. Got it. No talking about it.” 

Lujanne nods, standing up. “Now I do believe someone else wants to talk to you.” 

Ezran peeks out from behind Phoe-phoe, Zym and Bait accompanying him. “Hey Callum.” 

“Hey, Ezran.” 

“Are you still mad?” 

“Not really.” A bit unsatisfied? Yes. A tad bitter? Also yes. But he couldn’t say he was angry, and none of the negative stuff was directed at Ezran- besides for that bit of jealousy but that’s an old feeling, one that’s far overshadowed by love. 

Ezran nods, scooting closer to sit. “That’s good. Are you gonna talk to Rayla?” 

“Maybe she should come talk to me,” Callum mutters. 

“You really hurt her feelings.” 

Callum sighs, moving the books out of the way as Zym comes over, intent written in his trajectory. Zym clambers into his lap, sniffing in an investigative sort of manner, Bait simply curls up next to Ezran, content. Callum’s shoulders sink when he realizes how little attention he’s been paying to both his brother and the hatchling. “How’s Zym been doing?” 

“He’s doing good. I’ve been teaching him words.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah, since we’re kind of his parents for now, we’ll have to teach him everything he should know. I’ve been trying to think about what Dad would do, if he were here.” 

Callum looks down, conflict roiling inside him. Should he tell Ezran about what Viren had done- had said to him? Could he? He knows the answer to that one. He’s been avoiding the truth himself, sustained on half-lies and imagined victories for his step-father. One day, he’ll find the words. Now, all he can offer is, “I miss him.” 

Ezran leans into him. “I miss Dad too. We’re doing something really big- you know? I’ve been thinking, he’d be proud of us, right?” 

“Of course he would. What kind of question is that? We’re taking the dragon prince home where he belongs.” Callum chuckles quietly, a breathy one that’s just barely a sound at all. King Harrow would be telling him that there was a big responsibility on their shoulders, and that they had to go through with it- well, he wouldn’t have even let them do this. He would have taken the egg himself, straight to the queen without a thought to his own safety. That’s just who he was- everything Callum wasn’t but wants to be. 

“Yeah you’re right.” Ezran’s smile pushes against Callum’s arm. “That was a silly thought, wasn’t it?” 

Callum reaches over to ruffle Ezran’s hair with a hand. “The silliest thing you’ve ever said.” 

“Really? Even more silly than explosive jelly tarts?” Ezran leans away, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow so that the other eye was half closed. 

“Okay, maybe not  _ that  _ silly. But a close second for sure.” Warm spreads around his chest, a common thing when talking to Ezran. No matter how annoying he was being, Ezran always had that way of making Callum feel better. Ezran’s good with people like that- and animals. 

“...Will you talk to Rayla soon?” 

“Yeah, I think I will.” Gently, Callum shoos Zym out of his lap. He hands the books to Ezran. “Can you put these with our stuff? I’ll go look for her.” 

“Gotcha. Now go.” Ezran takes the books eagerly- jeez Callum forgot how much unresolved arguments upset Ezran. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Callum stops after a few steps, wondering where Rayla would have gone. The mountain is huge- it could take him the rest of the day to find her. Knowing her, it would. But there’s regret niggling at him now, the inherent remorse of not being as kind as the rest of his family. 

Okay. Step one, find Rayla. 

* * *

Rayla sits on the cliff’s edge, overlooking the sprawling forest below, the dimming sunset at her back. She puts her hand in the grass, running it through her fingers. Her other arm rests in her lap. Teeth gritted, she sucks in a breath, hand clenching. 

There’s a thump-thump rhythm behind her. Footsteps. She closes her eyes, simply focusing on her hearing. The footsteps are inconsistent, unsure. They stop within a few feet of her, leaving only the occasional shuffle. Twice, there’s a step forward, only for it to draw back. 

“You know Callum,” Rayla opens her eyes, smirking at the way he jumps. “I used to be able to climb down this cliff. Now I wouldn’t even be able to start. How  _ useless _ am I?” 

“That’s not what I-” Callum sighs, coming to sit on the cliffside as well, a wise distance away from her. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Then what did you mean it like?”

“It’s just, it’s the truth. I’m sorry you lost your hand but the truth is there are a lot of things you aren’t going to be able to do for a while until you get used to it.” 

“I know that.” Callum falls silent, and Rayla gets the feeling that he’s waiting for something- no, expecting. An apology, maybe. She isn’t going to give him that much. “It’s just- there’s this feeling to do better, to be better. I can’t fail- I’m not allowed to. I know I can get past this- I have to be okay. Because if I’m not who’s going to protect Zym- and you and Ezran of course.” She needs to be stronger, be better, by the time she gets home. She has to be, if she ever wants the other elves to see that keeping Ezran alive was the right choice. She snorts. “Every time I look away I forget it’s gone.” 

“I can, uh, kinda understand how you’re feeling.” Callum leans his chin on a hand, looking outwards. “Ever since I broke the primal stone I’ve just felt...empty.” 

The grass in Rayla’s hand is ripped away from their stems as she snarls, “Oh. That’s what this is about- why you’ve were acting weird. Boo-hoo, pity me ‘cause I can’t cheat to use magic anymore. You never could use magic to begin with. No human can-” 

“But-” 

“There is no 'but'. What, you thought you were going to be the one exception? I didn’t think you were that conceited, or that stupid. Guess I thought wrong.” 

“Magic was the one thing I could do without feeling like I was useless,” Callum shouts back, throwing his hands up. “I know humans can’t do magic but it just felt right, like it was meant to be. I said the spell and there was just this rush. I had a purpose- a use.” 

“You didn’t lose anything.” Rayla shoves her bandaged arm forward, relishing in the way Callum blanches. “I worked for my skill. I trained for weeks on end. Runaan didn’t let me give up like a spoiled child. You’re unhappy with what you can do? Work. Learn how to use a blade. Change yourself.” Rayla, rubs at the limb, careful not to undo the bindings. “I gave this hand up for Ezran’s life- not because I thought I was flying because I jumped off a cliff without wings, chasing something out of reach.” 

Callum goes silent. Rayla turns away, staring at the wrapped stump. It still feels as if she should have a hand, one that aches and twinges with pain. She needs to start seriously retraining her body to account for the dead weight. Neither Callum nor Ezran could hunt, so she has to relearn that even sooner. Ezran must be taught how to hide with Zym and Bait; Callum must get down the basics of fighting at least. He could probably just use her other blade, not like she was going to. 

Callum cuts over her musings. “Aunt Amaya made sure every soldier knows basic sign language. The people closest to her are almost fluent if not completely fluent. She got these special goggles made so she can see in the dark, for when signals and stuff are hard to see. Because nobody really pays attention to it, she can get information without anyone even knowing.” 

“And?” Rayla scowls, a slight sneer on her lips. 

“Well, she never let being deaf stop her from being a soldier. Mom used to tell me how she would train all the time, always thinking of new ways to work with the fact she’s deaf. She rose up in the ranks ridiculously fast- kinda gave everyone around her whiplash.” Callum shakes his head. “What I’m trying to say is, just cause you lost your hand doesn’t make you useless or anything- I know, it’s a big loss, I can’t even imagine-” 

Rayla snorts, and Callum shoots her and affronted look, which she ignores. 

“It’ll be a long time, but I know you could do the same thing. You could wrap your other blade around your hand and make it into a knife hand or something, or maybe-” 

She really and truly can’t help herself. She bursts into laughter, both arms clutched to her side. “Did you just- a  _ knife hand? _ ” Rayla can’t help herself- rolling with laughter. 

“Hey, it’s a good idea.” Callum’s cheeks are bright red and he fumbles for a response. “C’mon I’m being serious- you fight with two blades anyways.” 

“So what, taping a blade to my arm is your first idea?” 

“I don’t know...maybe.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” Rayla rolls her eyes, surprised to find her voice had less of a bite to it. Callum is smiling now, and while it’s true that she’d rather see him happy she gets the feeling he still needs a good smack or two. 

His smile falls as soon as it had come. “I’m sorry- for all of this.”

She raises an eyebrow, considering. Really, she wants to push and prod and drag a real apology out of him, make sure he recognizes where he went wrong. But she’s not the only one who’s tired. Whatever. She’ll get it at a later date. 

She holds out her good hand. “Apology accepted, for now. You still need to learn how to fight.” 

The smile returns as Callums takes her hand. Stars, she forgot how weak his grip was. “Alright. I’ll try my best. I promise.” 

“Alright then. I can work with that.” 


End file.
